


Food and conversation

by wordswehavesaid



Series: Parental Approval [6]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Like really minor, M/M, Minor Sexual References, Set before "Out of Time" and "Nanda Parbat", also Joe is laying down the law for Oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswehavesaid/pseuds/wordswehavesaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe finally gets the opportunity to spend a little more time with Barry's- newly romantic - partner. If the night goes well, he might get to see just how well the two work together, and also leave Oliver with a healthy respect for Detective West.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Food and conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is the long-promised fill for Nevraukowen's prompt: Joe giving Oliver a shovel speech after Barry and Oliver start dating. I'm really hoping that this lives up to expectations, but if it doesn't there is also a great fic by Devil_In_Disguise titled "The Man Behind The Hood" if you guys can't get enough of protective-dad-Joe. I encourage you to check it out, and I hope you enjoy this addition!

It’s not that Joe’s ignoring it. He makes little comment to Barry; doesn’t wait up when the kid doesn’t get home until conspicuously late at night, long after he’s hung up the Flash suit; covers for him when Cisco asks why Barry doesn’t want to come to STAR labs on his day off for once. Because he knows these sort of things need a little time, a little space at the start if they’re going to grow.

But that certainly doesn’t mean he’s never going to bring it up, as Barry seems to be hoping when Joe catches him packing a bag for the weekend. “Going to see a certain someone?”

Barry jumps, drops the socks he just grabbed from his dresser. “Joe! Uhh, what do you mean?”

He has to chuckle at that. Kids. “I don’t know, maybe that vigilante who stopped by last week and you’ve been sneaking off to every spare second you get to run to Starling? You think I was just going to forget you making out with one of Iris’ celebrity crushes on my couch like a couple of teenagers?”

Barry groans, puts his face in his hands. “And just when I’d forgotten about her three list.”

He takes some pity and walks over to sit on the bed. “Come on, Bear, let’s talk.”

But it has the opposite effect when his son goes rigid, looks at him with wide eyes, and in a strangled voice asks, “Talk?”

He gets the special emphasis after a moment and then is rapidly shaking his head. “No, no, not _that_ talk. Think we suffered enough through the first one.” Barry nods his agreement, the memory clearly still as fresh in his mind as it is Joe’s. Although, given his son’s only recently discovered interest in that _male_ vigilante, what he’d tried his best to explain all those years ago now seems wholly inadequate. He considers, draws in a breath, “But now that you mention it—”

“ _Joe_!”

“Chill, I just want to know you’re being safe,” he says with his hands raised.

“We’re not—I mean we haven’t—oh _God_ ,” Barry is a bright red, mortified mess and looks just about ready to bolt out the door. “He lives with his little sister, Joe!”

“Does he?” His eyebrows go up in interest.

“Yeah, so you really don’t have to worry about anything happening at his place. Not that you should be worried, because I’m _twenty-five_ , but—”

“Then how come you always have to be the one going there?”

Barry blinks. “Wait, what?”

Joe sighs. “Look, Barry, I know with your abilities it’s just easier, but the thing about relationships is, they’re give and take. Both of you got to make the effort, prove you’re interested in what the other is doing.”

“And how would Oliver do that here? Caitlin, Cisco, and Dr. Wells would know something’s up if I brought him to STAR labs without some criminal to track down, and he’s too famous to bring to the precinct or anywhere public,” his kid points out reasonably.

Joe’s considered all these things and that’s why he already knows his idea is the best option. “Well,” he says, makes it casual as he can, “you could bring him over for dinner.”

He knows Barry’s a genius, but he proves it when the lightbulb immediately goes off. “So _that’s_ what this is about.”

“What?” Joe shrugs. “I’ve barely said five things to the guy. Can’t blame me for being a little curious to know him better, find out what you see in him. I work with Eddie, get to see him every day.”

Barry’s head cocks to the side and he remarks, “Funny, cause usually when you say that, you’re complaining.” He has the grace to acknowledge that with a nod, but doesn’t back down. “Fine,” his son relents, “I’ll invite him over.” The kid reaches for the bag, looks at Joe with newly reddening cheeks, and takes a step back without grabbing it. “And then I will be home before midnight.”

“I’m good with two a.m.,” Joe offers, but his son is gone. He laughs, then sets about unpacking for the kid while thinking about what to make for dinner. It ought to end up a special occasion, after all, to have the Flash and Arrow at his table.

\---

Barry is a pacing, nervous wreck the next day that Joe has banned from helping in the kitchen. That doesn’t stop him from zipping in every few minutes to ask things like, “You’re not going _say_ anything to him, are you?”

“It’s going to be pretty awkward if I don’t.”

“No, but I mean—”

“Look, Barry, what do you think this is about?” He checks the two casseroles—casseroles, pastas, and potatoes have become his best friends in his ongoing effort to combat Barry’s metabolism—in the oven, then shuts that door and turns off the burner under the mixed vegetables. “I’m not trying to scare him off or ruin things between you two.”

The kid scoffs. “Yeah, tell that to half of Iris’ boyfriends.”

“Well, that was the bad half,” he concedes while he pours the vegetables through a strainer to get rid of the water. When he turns around, Barry’s offering him a bowl. He takes it with a smile and says, “Anyway it’s not like _you_ need to be the nervous one.”

Barry frowns. “No see, it’s you saying stuff like that that makes me need to be nervous.” Then there’s a knock at the door. “That’s him.”

“Then go answer it,” he suggests. There’s a whoosh of air as his son leaves to do just that and Joe waits for it to die down before transferring the vegetables into the bowl, putting on the oven mitts, and taking out the casseroles to cool. When he looks out into the front room, Barry has just accepted a kiss on the cheek and goes to hang up the other man’s leather jacket while Oliver glances about the room with the same sort of keen eye Joe uses when casing an area for a suspect or criminal.

Their guest spots him and adopts a polite smile and tone. “Detective West.”

“I think Joe’ll be fine,” he says, coming forward to shake the man’s hand. Can’t help noting, in a quietly pleased sort of way, that he stands just a little taller. At least he’s got that. “I hope Barry didn’t tell you horror stories or something.”

There’s something of an amused light to the younger man’s eyes when he asks, “Then I can ignore that part about an inquisition?”

“Well it won’t be Spanish, at least.”

“Ok, now you’re both being ridiculous,” Barry huffs with a role of his eyes, “Nobody _actually_ expects the Spanish Inquisition. That’s the whole point.” Joe’s not sure if it’s been their brief exchange or purely Oliver’s presence that’s miraculously calmed him, but his kid draws up to the other vigilante, bumps his shoulder with his own, and adds, voice light and almost teasing, “And I never said inquisition. Can we not give him ideas?”

“My idea was to move this to the kitchen,” Joe says. “Got the food out, we can just take plates to the dining room.” It’s necessary these days to make space for the three—sometimes five after a particularly grueling day of running—plates of food Barry consumes in one meal. Joe helps him carry those out and Oliver pulls out chairs for both of them before sitting in his own with just the slightest hint of the same disbelieving expression Joe had worn the first week Barry had been put on his metahuman food plan.

“I know,” Barry grimaces. “Gotta get the calories somehow, though. You know Caitlin’s banned me from eating celery?”

“Seriously?” The other man says with a short laugh, which will probably take a long time to not seem strange. It’s times like these when Joe plays the if-someone-told-him-a-year-ago game, and the Arrow being romantically involved with his metahuman son and coming over for dinner ranks as possibly one of the strangest.

The way Barry’s smiling at the other man makes Joe think strange is actually pretty good.

He finds that asking about sports, or any sort of media in general, is a topic that can’t be sustained very long. Apparently a five year hiatus from following favorite teams makes it hard to catch up. So Barry successfully steers the conversation to the upcoming wedding between John Diggle, another member of the Starling crew he met briefly, and Lyla Michaels, a woman he recalls hearing of at least once. He thinks it’s a deliberate choice, as the lighter topic and the clearly deep bond between their guest and his teammate bring out an almost softer edge to Oliver he can’t be happier knowing exists.

“You’re best man, right?” Barry checks, like it’s hardly a question.

“Dig hasn’t asked,” the other man replies with a shake of his head.

“Yet. Come on, I give it a week,” his kid says with a confident grin that turns a little mischievous when he considers, “That’d be pretty cruel if he picked Roy instead, though.”

Oliver actually snorts. “Please.” Which morphs into a chuckle when Barry chokes on his water laughing, though their guest is quick to put one hand to the younger man’s back and the other on his shoulder, remaining there while Barry recovers.

“Suppose their daughter’s a bit young to really participate,” Joe comments. When Oliver looks to him in surprise, he elaborates, “Barry mentioned once. Sara, right?”

There’s a slight upward quirk of the other man’s lips. “That’s right.”

Later on when they’ve all finished, Joe pushes his chair out from the table a few inches, leans back. “Mm. I’m going to go ahead and say that was pretty good.”

“It was. Thank you, Joe,” Oliver agrees, perfectly cordial. He’s been so the whole evening, barely a hint of the vigilante’s more forceful behavior. What’s been stopping Joe from believing it’s been nothing but an act, though, is the several candid moments he’s witnessed between him and his son. Time now to really put things to the test.

“You’re welcome. But I don’t think I can get up just yet. Barry, you mind doing clean-up?”

The kid gives a mock put-upon sigh that makes both him and their guest smile briefly. But as he rises from the table, Barry’s eyes flick from Joe to Oliver and back. He stops. “Oh, come on, no,” he pleads at Joe. He’s raised both his kids to be astute observers if not detectives, and his son’s clearly read his true intent.

“Yes,” he answers plainly. “Just a little chat.”

“Yeah? Like one word little, cause that’s how long it’s going to take for me to finish these,” his kid waves an arm around indicating the dishes.

“Not if you want to be sitting in the kitchen with nothing to do till I finish,” he returns evenly.

Barry’s mouth is set in a stubborn line, but he pauses when Oliver reaches out and encircles his wrist. “Barry, it’s fine.” There’s an implied _I’ll be fine_ very apparent in that. Joe lets it pass purely because it works to pacify Barry. His son looks at the other man and a grudging smile tugs at his lips.

“Fine. You’d probably get lost in the kitchen anyway.”

“I know how to do dishes,” the former billionaire insists, though the indignation in his voice is kind of lost on them both when he’s also trying not to laugh. Barry doesn’t respond, but he’s gathered up their plates, cups, and cutlery and so makes his way out of the dining room with exaggeratedly dragging feet.

“Go on, flash out of here,” Joe chides, and gets a dirty look over the shoulder in return that he’s pretty sure has been learned from Iris before Barry disappears.

The two remaining men both require a moment to reaffix more serious expressions, and so take the time before the sink starts running to do so. Oliver’s clearly waiting on him, and though his posture isn’t necessarily relaxed—he thinks few people are privileged with that experience—it exudes a certain confidence. He’s not even close to intimidated. And why would the Arrow be?

So Joe starts out with, “You know, when he first came to live here, I tried to teach Barry boxing.”

“Tried?”

“Oh, was he bad at it,” he recalls with a chuckle. “Iris used to knock him down all the time. Course she had five years’ training on him, but…anyway, ever since he’s woken up with these abilities of his, he’s gotten pretty good at fighting back.” Oliver acknowledges that with a nod, and that’s when Joe sits forward, posture and tone losing that lazy, anecdotal quality to it as he says, “So if there’s ever something that could be helped, but you do anyway and you hurt my boy, I’m not coming for you. I’m just gonna reteach him what I know, then sit back and watch him kick your butt.”

Oliver Queen looks positively stunned for a moment before a single incredulous bark of a laugh escapes him. “Detective Joe West. I can see why Barry has so much respect for you. That was the last thing I expected to hear.”

Joe tries not to appear too smug as he shrugs. “I know my own kids. I don’t feel too bad telling you this, but I was hoping for more than a few years that Barry’d be more than my unofficial foster son. That he’d be my son-in-law.” And ok, maybe he feels a little bad at the slightest of grimaces the younger man takes on. He raises a hand and concedes, “Now as long as my kids are happy with who they’re with, that’s what matters. The point is, I made sure that boy knows how to treat someone right. I don’t have that same guarantee with you.”

He knows the Starling vigilante is a serious man, but he appreciates especially the time that’s spent before he answers. “I understand that, especially given everything you know of me, you would have your concerns. And not just about my double life. I’ve never had,” a healthy amount of chagrin is added to his expression as he picks the phrase, “the best track record in relationships. I’d like to tell you that since my return to Starling I have been a better person. That wouldn’t be true. I’ve been a different person, yes, but when it came to relationships—well, I’d come to the conclusion that I couldn’t be happy, with myself or with someone else, while doing my work as the Arrow.” Then any discomfort or self-deprecation fades from the man’s face. “Your son convinced me otherwise. I can tell you that Barry is what is making me a better person, and that I would do _anything_ to keep him safe and happy.” There’s an absolute sincerity in the way he holds Joe’s gaze, and a heavy weight to the word ‘anything’ coming from a man who has been known to kill. Yet it doesn’t seem ominous, it seems…strong, like a promise he can believe in.

He manages to find his voice, says, “He tends to have that affect.”

Oliver’s lips twitch upward briefly. “That’s something we can readily agree on, then. Should you have any other concerns, please don’t hesitate to bring those up.” Joe nods. Then the younger man tips his head back, calls out, “How was that?”

Barry’s not even sheepish when he pokes his head back into the room, though he ignores Joe’s flat stare to walk up behind Oliver’s chair and loop his arms around in a hug. The elder of the pair automatically reciprocates best he can, hands coming up to rest over Barry’s forearms, holding him there.

“Totally passed,” his son informs the Starling native proudly, almost nuzzling his cheek against the other man’s. But his eyes flick up, both a question and a dare, to Joe.

He lets out a sigh, finally resting back against his chair. “Yeah, passed.”

He thinks he gets his first real smile from Oliver Queen in that moment.

**Author's Note:**

> This got way longer than I expected starting out, but I had such a fun time writing it. Also had to get a mention of the Dig/Lyla wedding in honor of tonight's episode, so...if you have any thoughts/prompts/questions/rambles, by all means leave them in the comments! Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
